Electrocuted
by awordycontradiction
Summary: He was no hero, Stiles barley felt alive.


**I just need to say how happy I am that Erica didn't die last night like I REALLY thought she was going to. Now I can continue hoping for her and Stiles to be together since Lydia let me down hard core. Enjoy!**

He heard it, he knew he heard it. It was muffled and filled with fear. It was a cry for help. He got up, shuffling in the darkness for a light switch, a flashlight, a freaking candle, just anything. Stiles' heart was beating harshly through the padding of his jersey. It seemed so long ago that he was in that lacrosse game, winning, happy. His shaking hand landed on something promising and was quick to flick the knob. As the room filled with a nauseating neon light, the silhouette of two very familiar bodies came into view. Stiles' eyes widened in shock. Hadn't they left? Or well, tried to. Boyd and Erica were gagged, hanging awkwardly and rather uncomfortably from the ceiling. Stiles rushed over, tears were in the blondes eyes, mixed with the fear and pain she had to have been in. It was sort of unsettling, the way he felt himself jolt towards her, but that was a feeling that could be dealt with later, not now, not while she was looking at him with those big tear filled eyes that clung to him like he was her last hope. He might have been. He quickly grabbed onto her side, rubbing a soothing circle into the damp and harsh fabric of her jacket, it sent a shutter through Erica. Her eyes closed. She was squirming, shaking.

"_Shh.."_

He breathed in a panicked whisper, trying to both calm her and his own heart. Stiles' other arm reached up, his goal to tug the wires holding her free. Like getting hit by lightening, a shock went through him, something more of a shock than he could have ever felt by the situation at hand. Erica's eyes were wide and reeling in the vibrations she felt with him, probably part of her felt it for him. Her muffled sobs were for Stiles this time, not her own fate. The duck tape kept her from saying something she shouldn't.

"_They were trying to warn you, the wires are electrocuted."_

That voice. It couldn't be good. Gerard's wrinkled face held a smile, it was mocking and vindictive. Stiles stood in front of Erica, to protect her, though she had to smell his fear, Boyd too, though he pretty much forgot the large werwolf was even in the room. Gerard stepped closer.

"_What are you doing with them?" _

Gerard couldn't have needed them. If he wanted Derek, he would have found him himself. Gerard wasn't quiet about his impressive skills. No, Gerard Argent probably already knew exactly where Derek Hale was, he didn't need his pack to find him. This was just part of his twisted fun. Stiles' gulped, the tight smile on the elder man's face only became more manic. But Gerard seemed to forget about the wolves currently hung like boxing bags in the middle of the cold basement. His sight was only for Stiles, and the boy knew it. He was quick to shoot down Stiles' humor, not even annoyed by it. He grabbed a hold of Stiles by the sleek material of his jersey, and looked at him, a cold, distant look was in the old man's eye. Stiles couldn't ignore the intensity of it, nor could he ignore how strong the frail man actually was. His heart rate accelerated again as Gerard's arm rose from his shirt and quickly backhanded him to the ground. The initial blow was a shock for Stiles and he was reconsidering the feeling of the electric currents that were still tingling up his arm. After Gerard pulled him back up by his collar, that determined glare still in place, Stiles stopped retaining. It was a gift, pretend it wasn't real. This wasn't to hurt Stiles. Stiles could easily take pain and the old bastard knew it too. This wasn't to hurt stiles, not physically anyway, it was to send a message, to worry everyone, keep the people Stiles' cared about off their game. The blows became repetitive and he tried to focus on anything, anything other than the lifeless eyes above him. He saw Erica, she was wincing in his pain, she was trying to wiggle, break free. With every quick hit to the face, Erica looked away, so did Boyd. The young wolves were so over their head. He wanted to help them, it was all he could think about. He needed to do something, not get his ass handed to him by a man that could very well be pushing ninety.

Once it was over and Gerard stepped out, wiping his hands on a tissue from his pocket, he got one last look at Erica Reyes before being dragged out of the basement by the same man who threw him down there. She was crying again, and her fear had only multiplied. Stiles felt sick. He couldn't help her, he could barley protect himself.

That night, after talking his dad down from literally arresting the entire lacrosse team and after royally blowing it with Lydia, he sat and thought of what his dad had said, about him being a hero. Sure Mr. Stilinski was only talking about lacrosse, and sure it was only to cheer Stiles up because the girl he loved didn't love him, but he had called him a hero and in the distant memory that was the other night, Stiles believed his dad meant it. Seeing the pride shining in his smile, seeing the way he rose to his fee,t cheered, the way he was smiling at Stiles only moments ago, it was nearly enough to make himself see himself a little more clearly.

"_I'm not a hero." _

But then he remembered Erica's face, gagged and dangling in the Argent's basement like an action scenario he remembered from a movie he and Scott used to sneak into before they were old enough. He let her down, saw it in her eyes, all the hope she could have believed in as he was carried away from her dwindling now. That look as he was dragged away was like being electrocuted all over again. The pain and shock and anger shook him, made him feel worthless and even more alone in this sea of danger and confusion. He couldn't do anything. It was already decided by the sixteen year old. God only knew what was going to happen to her now, and instead of even trying to do anything about it, Stiles was sitting, feeling sorry for himself, worried about saying the wrong thing to Lydia Martin and worried about giving his dad a heart attack. He was no hero, Stiles barley felt alive.


End file.
